Hellspawn (Book 2): Hellspawn Odyssey

by Ricky Fleet

They moved the desk and gathered in the workshop. Peter and Braiden climbed into the driving seats and started the engines, giving them a chance to warm up. They wanted to minimise any chance of failure that a cold engine may provide. Grinding to a halt in the midst of one thousand festering carnivores would result in a bad day for everyone.

  “We need to search all this equipment. There could be some good gear to take,” Sam declared, pointing at the scattered tools and engine parts.

  “Later, we have a job to do. Sam, go up to the rear of the building, open the windows and start shouting. Debbie, would you mind doing the same from the other end?” Kurt was extending an olive branch.

  “Yeah, ok,” she replied, taking it with less ill will than Kurt was expecting.

  Peter and Braiden turned their ignitions off once the engines had heated and the hollering started, carrying through the floor and steel doors. The noises of the dead battering on the metal diminished and finally stopped altogether. Kurt was nervous, he desperately wanted to take their place, but he didn’t have the skill to pull it off. He would just as likely crash into the other vehicle, killing them both. Or roll straight off the edge of a precipice, falling to his death on the rocks below in a tangle of twisted metal. Swallowing his pride, he waited patiently for the zombies to move away and the all clear signal to be given by John.

  “Go!” His father shouted.

  “Now,” Kurt called to Gloria and Sarah who pulled on the door chains, opening them to the daylight.

  “Good luck!” Gloria yelled as the two rolled past her, giving her a nervous wave.

  They squinted into the bright morning sun and as soon as they were clear the doors closed, sealing the openings like two closing eyes. They were on their own now, they would lead the crowd as far away as possible when they had, hopefully, been successful and the doors would blink open again. Peter felt like he was going to be sick when the flood of bodies rounded the building and made directly for them.

  “Fall in line!” Braiden shouted, beeping the deep horn of the dozer and pointing to his rear. Peter nodded and pulled in behind, following the tracks of the heavier machine.

  The horde was filing around their base which worked in their favour. Braiden drove to the far side of the open area and doubled back. The snaking line of horror was perfect and Peter assumed that Braiden would roll straight down it, killing most of them in one pass. Braiden took the safer option, he trusted the vehicle, but there was no room for error. He cut to the left and then sharply right, intersecting the pustule riddle procession, cutting through it. The heads and bodies connected with the massive blade, splattering gore and blood indiscriminately. The heavy caterpillar tracks dragged the dead down and crushed them, innards spewing from mouths and noses before the heads were pressed into the gravel, exploding from the forceful pressure. Braiden was cheering as the machine trundled on. Peter aimed the excavator, mopping up as many as he could that gave chase. The half squashed bodies that had escaped the full weight of the bulldozer reached out, unable to peel themselves from the gravelled ground. The tracks of Peter’s vehicle finished them off, compressing them like half rolled tubes of toothpaste. Braiden turned and cut another swathe through the lines, the smell of spilled decomposition was getting through the windows, making his stomach churn.

  “Doing great!” Braiden whooped, looking back at Peter and punching the roof of the cab with excitement.

  The enthusiasm wasn’t shared. Peter felt increasingly nauseous at the stink and the sights he was following, the glistening piles of ruptured meat and splattered blood, still retaining their basic human shape but squeezed to an inch thick. The mass of figures was getting thicker, the line converging on the exhaust snorting monsters. Some tried to find purchase to climb, but the rotating metal tracks brushed them aside and they too fell under the massive weight.

  “Oh no!” Peter muttered fearfully. When Braiden had slowed to make a turn, the zombies had scrambled onto the rear of the cab. They were trying to get at the youngster who was oblivious to the impending threat because of the noise. The sudden turn tumbled one sideways and he was dragged into the churning cogs of the tracks, gradually being minced as they continued with the carnage. Peter accelerated and raised the digging arm, stretching it out. Matching the pace of the dozer he dropped the metal bucket and pinned the corpse, scraping it clear in a smear of green ichor which dripped from the rear.

  “Thanks!” Braiden yelled, still smiling and putting his thumb up. How could he be so cheerful? Peter wondered.

  They were getting close to the main building and Braiden swung away, leading the gathered horde towards the furthest point, readying himself for the final run into the waiting garage. Hundreds had fallen beneath the tonnes of steel. The caterpillar tracks drew crazy wet lines between crushed piles of the dead.

  “You did awesome Pete!” Braiden called out as they waited, engines idling while the crowd converged on them. He gave three heavy blasts on the horn, signalling they were making their return journey.

  “Can’t hear you,” Peter shouted, pointing at his ears. The JCB was saturated with unspeakable fluids and fragments of splintered bone that had hit against the cab. Struggling not to vomit, he focused on the steel doors, watching as they opened welcomingly.

  “Ready?” Braiden mouthed to him and Peter nodded. They revved and punched forward, hitting the incoming tide with a sickening crunch, slime and blood splashing upwards like a wave hitting a breaker. Bouncing and rocking over the huddled bodies, the tracks started to slip on the dozer and it ground to a halt atop a pile of vileness. Braiden gunned it but the machine just churned the flesh into a paste, he didn’t have time to free himself, the zombies were already surrounding the stricken dozer. Peter hesitated, staring at the safety of the garage and the solid doors, the new friends he had made were waiting for him. The inner coward almost won, but with a bestial shout he turned, crushing more of the dead.

  “Just go! Get out of here!” Braiden was shouting, pointing madly at the open doors.

  Peter ignored him and raised the arm once more, dropping the toothed bucket and grasping the dozer blade with a resounding clang. Shifting into reverse he pulled as Braiden pushed and the vehicle came free, much to the disappointment of the hungry corpses who gave chase. Instead of repositioning himself Peter stayed in reverse, watching over his shoulder and breaking loose of the other machine at the last minute and backing it expertly into the waiting mechanical bay. Braiden parked up and the doors came clattering down just in time, the sounds of fists on metal quickly commencing again.

  “Bloody hell that was intense!” commented Braiden, jumping down from the cab and grabbing Peter in a bear hug. “You saved my life, Pete. I won’t forget it.”

  “None of us will, you were fantastic,” Paige complimented him and joined the embrace.

  “You would have done the same for me,” Peter said, blushing. He would keep his momentary weakness from them, he was ashamed at himself. It was the kind of shit Debbie would pull.

  “Look out!” Kurt yelled and swung his hammer. The half minced zombie had pulled itself free from the cogs and was reaching for Paige. Peter pulled her away and they fell on top of one another. The steel hammer head punctured the brain and it collapsed, the entrails stretching in a disgusting trail from the dozer.

  “Thanks, you saved me again.” Paige smiled up at Peter; she saw his face and the smile changed to confusion.

  “I… I …” Peter didn’t finish, instead vomiting his breakfast all over Paige’s hair.

  “That’s gross!” Sam said, trying not to laugh.

  Peter looked devastated. He was frantically trying to clean his mess, pulling bits of food from her golden tresses. She started laughing underneath him, unfazed by the sickly smell and sticky hair.

  “Oh God, I am so sorry,” Peter was apologising repeatedly as Kurt and John helped him to his feet.

  “Bend over, dearie,” Gloria instructed, pouring clean water over her head, washing most of the larger debris away.<
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  “Hang on!” Sam said and ran off, returning quickly with a handful of soap from the press dispenser in the toilet. “It’s not great, but it’s got to be better than that.” He shrugged, rubbing it into her head. They poured more water, washing the suds away onto the concrete floor.

  “That’s a waste of our water,” Debbie scolded.

  “Yes, but necessary,” Kurt agreed grudgingly. Paige couldn’t have been expected to have vomit dripping from her. “Let’s get the last of the water from the chiller, and then we get our breath back. I want to head out within the hour.” It was as much to get it over and done with as anything. The sight of the JCBs wreaking havoc was one thing, but he would be on foot.

  “We need to get these scraped off first,” John argued, indicating the limbs, guts and blood that covered the machines. It was unlikely that the gore would cause a malfunction but why take the chance? John picked up a broom and started to poke through, dislodging lumps of viscera that hit the bottom of the inspection pit with a wet splash. Peter looked over, retched and looked away.

  “You sit this one out, mate. We will finish up,” Kurt advised and Peter raised an appreciative hand before staggering off to lie down.

  Three more incomplete zombies were ground up and wedged in between the main body of the vehicles and the hydraulics. They gnashed and moaned before being dispatched without ceremony, ramming jabs from the last crafted steel spear ending their loathsome existence. It was more difficult to shift these larger objects and Kurt had to reach in, hacking away with the hatchet until the remains dropped onto the growing pile of meat.

  “I think that should do it,” John said, dripping sweat.

  “Fancy a cuppa?” Kurt asked, wanting a steaming mug of coffee.

  “Sounds like a plan,” John replied and they returned to the upper floor, igniting the fire in the bin to boil more water.

  “You ok, Pete?” John questioned, kneeling by him on the sofa and offering the hot fragrant brew.

  “Yeah, sorry it was just the smell. I’ll be good to go again shortly.” Peter took the mug, savouring the delicious coffee.

  “Good man, you were terrific. Rest up a while longer.” John patted his shoulder and retrieved his own drink, before walking to the window. The broken bodies were strewn across the gravel, some still alive, now immobile and stuck to the ground. Several hundred had been wiped out, making Kurt’s task slightly less daunting. They were still a sizeable force to take on.

  “You ready for this?” John asked when Sarah and Kurt joined him.

  “Nope, but we don’t have a choice. I’m the only one who knows the mines a little,” Kurt said and Sarah held him tight. His youthful exploration into the lower level had been short lived, his bravado in front of his female companion quickly disappearing when mournful wails had echoed down the tunnels. It had probably been a lost animal but they had not stopped running until they were safely back in his rusty car, panting and laughing in equal measure.

  “We should go and sit down, get our strength back. This nervous pacing is doing us no favours,” Kurt stated and they settled onto the sofas. They talked and discussed as much of the coming plan as they could think of. It didn’t go unnoticed that the closer Paige got to Peter, the further Debbie moved away, both physically and mentally. The hateful looks that she regarded the pretty blonde with were beginning to grate on Kurt. Just as he was about to explode again, the time had come.

  “Shall we? We still have to reach the pub,” John asked, aware of the shadows moving on the carpet with the slow crawl towards night.

  **********

  It all had to be executed perfectly to give them a chance at survival. Kurt was poised by the fire exit; a quick peek had revealed about forty zombies to the rear of the building. None had climbed the metal fire escape staircase yet. Debbie was positioned at the window above the main entrance and Sam was below, they were to make as much noise as possible and tempt the horrors away from the rear as well as the steel roller doors which housed the two massive machines. Peter and Braiden were seated and locked in the cabs, engines idling, ready to trundle out on caterpillar tracks and crush the horde under a hundred thousand tonnes of compacted limestone. The interior doors had all been wedged open to give uninterrupted communication between them. With one final prayer, Kurt gave the signal and all hell let loose. Debbie screamed and shouted, baiting the zombies toward her position and Sam was beating on the door with a metal chair, resounding clangs echoing up the stairs. Kurt was poised like an Olympic athlete; hand on the push bar that would open the exit. He took deep breaths, attempting to keep his composure and waiting for the shout.

  “Go! I love you!” John shouted, seeing the last of the dead rear guard head towards the entrance.

  Kurt pushed through and saw the way was clear. He carefully descended, remembering the pain of his ankle from the last time he had rushed. More was riding on this than his own life and if he failed they would soon be joining the new species that ruled the world. The fence separated the two areas, beautiful peace and tranquillity on the lake and chaotic horror in the mines. He envied the swans as they bobbed around on the quiet water, carefree and lacking the faculties to understand the new order. The corner was reached and Kurt readied the hammer, with his short hatchet ready to be pulled from his belt in an emergency. Across a space of three hundred yards the dark mouths of the cave openings waited, still housing potential dangers that he would only discover when he stumbled across them. One more breath and he pinioned his arms, sprinting across the short distance. His terrified mind started to play tricks and the gap seemed to elongate, stretching away into the far distance. Panic started to grip his heart, but it snapped back to normal as he was suddenly at the cavern opening. Shining the torch into the deep recesses he saw that it was safe as far as the beam would penetrate. Who knew what lurked within? His pause threatened to drag into permanent paralysis, but a shout brought him back.

  “Get a fucking move on!” Debbie screamed, back to her usual charming self. He was grateful though for the kick in the pants. She and Sam both fell silent and now it was his turn.

  “Hey, you putrid bastards! Grubs up!” Kurt yelled, “Come and get it, fresh and red, come on!”

  He watched the massive swarm turn as one and commence their slow march for him, his bowels shrivelling. Talking through the plan had not prepared him for the reality as thousands of weeping eyes fixed him with their dead gaze.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered and backed into the black opening. His mouth was dry and he had to force a whisper. “Get a grip on yourself.”

  He looked at the building that housed his whole life, clenched the hammer tight and carried on calling out. “Over here! Hey, come on!”

  The hunger was upon them. Kurt backed away fully, knowing he had their undivided attention. The flashlight cut to and fro, picking out more columns that were set throughout the cave. The ceiling was moist and huge stalactites hung from the stone, dripping water that penetrated the limestone and forming sharp spears of mineral deposits. Similar spikes rose from the floor, one mistimed step would throw him onto one, impaled and ready to be devoured like an aperitif. Graffiti was sprayed on the stone by young vandals; intricate lettering and artistry in a multitude of colours, a modern take on the ancient pictures of hunting and survival. This particular mine had been long abandoned after all the easy rock had been extracted by craftsmen hundreds of years ago. The pillars were fragile.

  An arm grabbed him and he stumbled, falling far too close to one of the stalagmites where he hadn’t been paying attention. The corpse was female and only the upper trunk remained, trailing intestines and guts behind her. Her arm had tripped him and she was frantically crawling, determined to mount and feed on Kurt. He kicked out and the flesh peeled away, revealing the rotting skull underneath. The zombie was undaunted by the blow and it climbed his legs, trying to bite, but the angle was wrong to find purchase. It continued up his body, aiming for the tender area between his legs. Kurt aimed with the hammer
, missed and hit his own thigh, the pain shot through the limb and the half zombie took its first bite, catching the zipper and chewing down tight. Kurt screamed and hammered indiscriminately, trying to maintain his manhood. If he had to be a walking corpse, please let it not be as a eunuch. The final blow connected and the brain was destroyed, the head sagging into his groin; a welcome gesture from his wife, but not from the putrid half mess. He pushed it away in disgust, felt his genitals for reassurance and thanked God or whatever power had saved him.

  The thronging mass was navigating the caverns, sensing his presence rather than seeing him. The torch had been thrown clear and the bulb was out, only the faint reflection of the light from the entrance catching the glass showed him where it lay. He grabbed it and fumbled for the switch, pressing the button and it blazed into life. The rear of the cave beckoned, empty and bleak. He knew where the shaft was, the iron rungs that had been embedded in the rock face for emergencies would take him to safety. Running toward the ladder he passed a bizarre sight; half burned black candles littered the floor and there was a pentagram drawn in the compacted dust of the floor. Satanic rituals had taken place at this spot and Kurt nearly laughed. He hoped that whoever they were, they were satisfied with their work. This really was a Hell on earth.

  Barriers were placed around the ladder hole to prevent errant trespassers from falling in. The opening beckoned Kurt.

  **********

  “Ok, Now!” shouted John.

  Sarah and Gloria heaved on the chain runners that opened the shutter doors. They rose, inch by inch, and Peter and Braiden revved their engines and crawled forward, ready to burst forth into bright daylight. The machines were clear and rumbling across the main courtyard, aiming for the solid stanchions. A small number of the dead remained nearby and Gloria raised the shotgun, aiming at the nearest. The barrel blazed and the skull was obliterated, she swung and the gun bucked against her shoulder, dropping another corpse. She cracked the stock, pulled the two cartridges out and threw them away. She loaded two more and readied herself, watching the spreading pools of festering green blood from the headless bodies. Sarah was joined by Sam and John and the three followed the JCBs picking off any stray abomination.